Sanguine Prince | Chapter 12: Shadow of Hatred (Second Draft)

[Perception Check] successful!

Arcturus spun at the sound of shattering glass, realizing a moment later that it meant someone had just smashed in the window of Angela’s store. He opened his mouth to speak, but was abruptly cut off by Angela pushing what seemed to be a pistol into his hand, eyes focused on his.

“Listen, Arcturus,” she said seriously, “this is a standard aether pistol. If anyone that isn’t me comes in here, you point it at them and feed mana to the amplifier. The pistol will do the rest.”

“Angela, wait, I can help—”

Arcturus was cut off as she shoved him back into the alcove leading to the kitchen.

She grabbed a rifle from a nearby wall-mount and marched towards the door to the workshop, her hand passing over a rune on the wall he hadn’t noticed before. The lights shut off, leaving him blinking against the sudden dimness. He watched her go, frozen in place despite his best intentions, looking down at the pistol in his grip. Sleek and full-bodied, it resembled any number of weapons he’d seen in portrayals of the far future of Earth—and yet had an elegance that he knew no gun from his home could possess.

He almost used his [Inspect] skill, but new noises drew his attention.

The sound of raised voices, first Angela’s and then several others, washed into the workshop and the kitchen alcove. Arcturus could hear what they were saying clearly: Angela was demanding the intruders vacate before she exercised her right to defend her property, and they were insisting she stand down and move aside. It was a tense exchange by any stretch of the imagination, and he could imagine the brunette looked quite intimidating with a rifle half the size of her body pointed at the intruders.

[Perception Check] successful!

“We don’t want you, woman, just get out of the way!” shouted a man’s voice, the stress and anger making themselves obvious as the disagreement reached Arcturus’ enhanced hearing.

“We just want the kid,” a woman agreed, speaking up on top of the man. “This doesn’t concern you. Once we have him safely in hand, we’ll leave you some verified crown bonds for the broken glass. Just get out of the way.”

[Stealth] engaged!

Arcturus’ heart started hammering as he heard the words, and he inched towards the entrance to the workshop, where Angela’s shadow cast itself inside. Some form of law enforcement had to have been alerted already, which meant Angela had time on her side.

“I know what you are,” he heard Angela snarl back. “You’re Daeva Hunters!”

“What?” exclaimed one of the intruders, another woman. “No, we—”

Arcturus tensed when he heard a hiss-crack! akin to spitting fire, followed by Angela’s voice exclaiming loudly in pain, followed by a thud.

“You didn’t have to shoot her!” a second man yelled, his voice hoarse.

“That was completely unnecessary, Jakob!” the second woman joined in, outraged.

“We don’t have time for this,” the first man retorted, overriding any further dissent. “Get in there and grab the kid. We need to move before the constabulary arrives.”

Arcturus heard footsteps approaching and quickly shifted backwards, cursing his curiosity as he tried to carefully make his way to the shadowed kitchen area again. His hands were steady even as his heart pounded with suppressed anxiety and worry for Angela. He had been extensively trained by his father in self-defense and even weapons use, but he’d never expected to have to actually use any of it in a practical situation. The Dire Wolf had been one thing; that was man versus beast.

This? This was far different.

Find your courage, dumbass. Live or die, it’s your call.

The footsteps approaching the workshop resolved into the objecting man and one of the women, the pair of them peering into the back area cautiously as they entered.  Sheltering in the alcove to the kitchen, Arcturus could see them perfectly thanks to the light at their back and his own enhanced senses, carefully raising his pistol and taking aim. The man appeared 5’9”, with cropped black hair and a nondescript black jacket accompanied by an armored belt, gauntlet, and a pair of pistols in his hands. A sword sheath was just barely visible on his left hip, obscured by the fact that his right side was facing Arcturus.

The woman, meanwhile, was several inches shorter and had her long brown hair in a ponytail, though she was similarly dressed, with the addition of a stylised black choker. Both her boots and her gauntlets appeared technologically enhanced, and she was wearing a lens over her right eye, mounted on her right ear, that glowed a bright blue. Likely some sort of scanner or aiming assist, if what he knew about science fiction and rudimentary military hardware was any indication. He immediately realized his time to respond was rated in seconds, when a sudden surge of energy disrupted his thoughts, and his foes as well.

From where they had entered, a shimmering blue barrier of energy now stood defiant.

“An Aethershield?!” the second man exclaimed in shock.

“That woman must have triggered it,” his companion said in annoyance, sweeping her eyes over the interior of the workshop.

[Perception Check] successful!

[Stealth Check] unsuccessful!

[Stealth] broken!

The woman swore when she saw Arcturus, and he swore in turn, pumping as much mana as he could into his pistol and depressing the trigger. Instead of a hiss-crack of activation or any kind of impressive laser fire, the weapon instead vibrated in his hand and started smoking, leaving Arcturus immediately defenseless.

Mana at 95 / 110. You are regenerating 1.8 Mana per minute!

“Fuck,” he said in a nonplussed voice, looking up to where both intruders now had their guns pointed in his general direction.

“Easy, kid, we don’t want to hurt you,” said the man, his voice nervous. “Just put down the gun and come—”

[Telekinesis] Activated!

Mana at 95 / 110.

Mana regeneration is disabled!

Arcturus didn’t wait for the man to finish speaking, thrusting out both hands and visualizing a log smashing into both of them as he threw his newly upgraded telekinetic ability full force on both intruders. The result was more than he’d hoped, but less than he’d needed; both of them slamming back into the bench with pained cries, but clearly not properly taken out of the fight.

Curses and groans notwithstanding, they appeared battered, but not wounded.

Unknown Assailant suffers 15 Damage from [Telekinetic Blast]!

Unknown Assailant suffers 15 Damage from [Telekinetic Blast]!

[Telekinesis] Casting successful!

Mana at 81 / 110!

Mana regeneration is disabled due to combat!

While they were gathering themselves, Arcturus raced forward and reached out with his hands again to yank them both toward him and keep them unsteady.  Their shouts of confusion were lost to the blood pumping in his ears, and when they stumbled towards him, he acted immediately—using his momentum and mass to attack physically the moment he closed the distance.

[Strength Check] successful!

[Agility Check] successful!

Arcturus stabilized himself by lowering his center of gravity a moment before he pivoted off his left foot and roundhouse kicked both the assailants, his booted right foot snapping their heads to the side in a spray of spit and blood as he struck them. 

Unknown Assailant suffers 10 Damage from [Roundhouse Kick]!

Unknown Assailant is now [Dazed]!

Unknown Assailant suffers 8 Damage from [Roundhouse Kick]!

The man staggered from the hit, clearly feeling the force of it as he stumbled into a workbench. The woman fared significantly better, actually shifting with the blow in a show of combat training and managing to turn her momentum into a more graceful twist as Arcturus raised his hands again with desperate focus.

Before he could visualize his next telekinetic casting, however, the woman returned with a vicious combination of kicks that broke his focus and forced him to retreat. Just as he was about to gain distance, he grunted in pain, vision blurring as her heel crashed into his abdomen.

You suffer 11 Damage from Unknown Assailant’s attack!

[Vitality Check] unsuccessful!

You are now [Winded]!

Health at 99 / 110.  

Mana regeneration is disabled due to combat!

Arcturus dropped to his knees and held his stomach, wheezing at the sheer force of the blow the woman had delivered to him.  Her voice met his ears between the throbbing sound of blood pounding within them, her own speech marked by a measure of breathlessness.

“Enough, kid,” she said with a grunt, “just come quietly, we don’t want to hurt you.”

“You… killed… Angela…!” he managed to wheeze out in rage, raising his eyes to stare at her defiantly.

“What are you talking about?” she asked in irritation, looking less than pleased about it. “We haven’t got time to debate minor details here, you’re coming with—”

[Willpower Check] successful!

Arcturus didn’t let her finish, having taken the time she was speaking to desperately call in his focus. Instead, he reached out with his right hand and made a harsh yanking motion, visualizing a pair of feet kicking her legs out from under her.  The woman cursed as she was wrong-footed, staggering backwards against the bench. “Wait, don’t—”

[Willpower Check] successful!

Without hesitating, he struck, pouring his energy into a vicious swing of his arm that manifested as a monstrous fist of telekinetic force and smashed into her skull. The woman crumpled when it hit her, dropping like a stone from the force of the blow, while Arcturus himself cried out in sudden pain, gripping his head as a dagger of agony tore through it.

He coughed at the coppery taste of blood on his tongue, reaching up with a shaking hand to touch his nose, and pulling it away to see crimson on his fingers.

[Telekinesis] Casting successful!

Mana at 65 / 110. Mana regeneration disabled due to combat!

You suffer 23 Damage from [Psionic Overdraw]!

[Minor Haemorrhage] suffered!

You are suffering 3 Damage per 4 seconds from a [Minor Haemorrhage]!

Health at 76 / 110.

[Vitality Check] successful!

You manage to stay conscious despite the pain!

“Fuck,” Arcturus groaned out again, fighting against the blackness edging into his vision as his body almost lost consciousness from the pain.

Nice work, Arcturus. Kill yourself and save them the trouble. Genius.

Arcturus scowled and winced against the pain in his head, forcing himself to his feet shakily, controlling the urge to vomit as the world seemed to skew slightly in his vision, his eyes seeking out the man he’d dazed earlier. For all that had happened, it had barely been more than fifteen seconds since he’d kicked the still-conscious assailant in the head. Only now had the other man begun to recover, braced against the closest workbench as what Arcturus assumed was dizziness and nausea slowly abated.

Allowing the intruder to recover, however, could prove a fatal mistake, and Arcturus was not interested in any more of those. Face set in a rictus against the pain, eyes struggling to focus, Arcturus stared through the spots affecting his vision at the remaining enemy in the workshop and gritted his teeth more harshly against what he knew was coming.

He raised his right hand and curled his fingers into a fist, subconsciously imitating one of the most infamous villains in Earth’s popular culture while simultaneously vividly imagining the tightening of his enemy’s throat and the compression of his trachea.

[Telekinetic Channelling] activated!

Mana at 59 / 110.  Mana regeneration disabled due to combat!

Your [Telekinesis] is draining 5 Mana per 4 seconds!

You suffer 3 Damage from [Minor Haemorrhage]!

Health at 73 / 110.

Unknown Assailant suffers 10 Damage from [Suffocation]!

Unknown Assailant is [Suffocating]!

Arcturus cried out in pain and spat blood from his mouth, though he refused to break his focus on the male intruder, who was now desperately scraping at his throat. Arcturus’ snarl of pain turned furious as he poured his thoughts into imagining Angela, her smile cut short, her eyes glazed, her life gone. He used his fury and guilt to ignore the pain, to ignore the screaming of his mind and his body as it tried to rebel against the agony he was putting it through. He refused to be consumed by the horror of knowing that he’d been the cause of Angela’s death, that it was his fault she’d been caught in the crossfire. He was the one being hunted, yet she was the one who suffered—just because she’d shown him kindness.

Her killers had to pay.

Mana at 54 / 110.  Mana regeneration is disabled due to combat!

Your [Telekinesis] is draining 5 Mana per 4 seconds!

You suffer 3 Damage from [Minor Haemorrhage]!

Health at 70 / 110.

Unknown Assailant suffers 10 Damage from [Suffocation]!

Unknown Assailant is [Suffocating]!

Arcturus felt himself snarling in fury as the pressure built, his blood-stained fist digging so deeply into his palm that his nails were cutting his flesh. Like everything else, the pain was secondary, the stinging bite more fuel for the hatred burning through his body.

Some rational part of him was alarmed and concerned in equal measure, unsure where the sheer force of so much abject bloodlust had come from. It was as if something deeply buried, restrained, and oblivious to his notice had been unleashed in the most savage and primal way possible. Despite the part of his mind crying out in alarm, the part of his consciousness warning him something was very wrong, and the small voice of his conscience begging him to stop, he persisted.

He exulted in the feeling of absolute control, lost when he had been murdered at Yale. Finally, finally, he could dictate the terms.

Mana at 49 / 110. Mana regeneration is disabled due to combat!

Your Telekinesis is draining 5 Mana per 4 seconds!

You suffer 3 Damage from [Minor Haemorrhage]!

Health at 67 / 110.

Unknown Assailant suffers 10 Damage from [Suffocation]!

Unknown Assailant is [Suffocating]!

He watched the other man spasming, clawing bloody lines into his throat as his mind betrayed him and he attempted to extricate the pressure on his windpipe, tried to rationalise the feeling of it being crushed from inside his own neck.

“That’s right,” Arcturus spat viciously, ignoring the pain ratcheting further up inside his own head. “Suffer, you piece of shit.”

His eyes narrowed in incandescent hatred as he maintained his [Telekinesis].

“How many people have you made feel that helpless?” he demanded in fury. “How many times have your eyes watched others plead for mercy, only to kill them in cold blood?”

The words came from his stained lips without him fully realizing he was speaking them, his mind entirely focused on what he was doing. The bloodlust roaring through his mind was like a drug, like an unending ocean of empowerment and satisfaction that helped him drown away all his fears, concerns, and death-related trauma.

Mana at 44 / 110.  Mana regeneration disabled due to combat!

Your [Telekinesis] is draining 5 Mana per 4 seconds!

You suffer 3 Damage from [Minor Haemorrhage]!

Health at 64 / 110.

Unknown Assailant suffers 10 Damage from [Suffocation]!

Unknown Assailant suffers 27 Damage from [Crushed Trachea]!

Unknown Assailant is [Suffocating]!

He was so enraptured by the liberating feeling of his ruthless savagery that he didn’t even notice the wet crunch which signified his enemy’s cartilage had given way.